Safety First!
by Moe32
Summary: Jim and Pam. I've been working on this since before the finale, so this doesn't take Casino Night into account, and occurs sometime after Conflict Resolution.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

* * *

Tension had been high in the office that Friday. Pam had snapped at Kevin when he spilled her jellybeans, and began to beat up on the copier when it jammed on her. Michael was watching her through his shades, trying to determine whether it was safe to ask her to re-fax the order forms that he had mistakenly sent to the wrong customers.

After she spent twenty minutes angrily slamming paper around the supply closet in an attempt to restock it, Jim decided something had to be done. They hadn't talked much in the past two months, but someone had to talk to her, and everyone else was scared.

"Hey Pam. Feel like taking a trip with me to Abe's for a sandwich at lunchtime?"

"I'm not really hungry."

By now, Jim was used to being rebuffed by Pam. "Okay, well…just let me know if you want to talk or anything." Jim rushed through the last part. He knew she wouldn't want to talk. Ever since the wedding had been called off, she had been pretty unfriendly towards everyone. It was understandable, he told himself, she was going through a lot, but it seemed as though she had just been flat-out ignoring him.

Deciding that Abe's did sound good, he headed out at 12:15. While ordering his hoagie, he spied a bag of French Onion Sunchips. It couldn't hurt, right?

When he got back to the office, Pam was on the phone. He tried to catch her eye, but she seemed to be avoiding his glance. Why did he even try? He sighed, and tossed the chips onto her counter. He hated French Onion, anyway? Jim headed back to the lunchroom, and joined Oscar and Kevin.

After a few minutes, Oscar and Kevin returned to their desks, and Jim finished his sandwich in silence. He was just about done when Pam came in.

"Hey." Pam said, barely looking at him.

"Hi."

"Thanks for the chips. It was nice of you."

"No problem. You looked hungry."

"Yeah. I guess I am. Want to split them with me?"

Jim looked at her with surprise. She hadn't eaten with him in a long time. "Sure."

They ate in silence. Jim knew Pam was trying to get up the courage to say something, so he just let her take her time.

"I'm sorry I've been so…awful lately."

"That's okay. I know it's been a rough couple of months."

"Yeah. It's been, um, hard. We've been trying to work things out since . . . but last night, we had a big talk." She paused, not looking at Jim. "Roy's moving out this weekend."

Jim raised his eyebrows in surprise. Pam hadn't told anyone in the office the exact circumstances surrounding the "postponement" of the wedding, but Jim had just assumed that things would just revert to the way they had always been—Pam and Roy, in a dysfunctional, but permanent, relationship.

"Wow. Um…" Jim picked his words carefully. "I know you tried to work things out, but sometimes…things just aren't meant to be." It was lame, he knew, but what else could he say? He was trying to suppress the feeling that was building in his chest.

What did this mean? He didn't even know who had called off the wedding, or why. Had Roy gotten cold feet, and Pam decided that she couldn't be with him anymore? Or had Pam been the instigator—maybe because she had feelings for someone else? No, do not even let yourself think that, Halpert. Do not let yourself drag those feelings up again.

Pam nodded, but said nothing. Instead, she had a few more chips. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry, again. For the way I've been treating you." She was concentrating on the bag of chips. "I've just been very tense lately, but that's no excuse. I'm sorry."

Jim wanted to reach out for her hand, but avoided the temptation. She had been ignoring him for the past two months, but he had been equally as cold to her. Part of it, he knew, was his bitterness towards her. He couldn't believe she would stay with Roy after the wedding was postponed, and he had lost a lot of respect for her.

"It's okay. So, you're going to stay in the apartment?"

"Yeah, I guess it's good that I don't have to look for a new place. It's not going to be a pleasant weekend, though, with Roy packing up his stuff. He's not happy about how everything ended, but …" she shrugged.

So, it wasn't his choice to end things? Interesting. The hope that had been building in his chest was getting hard to ignore. A crazy thought entered his mind, and before he knew what he was doing, his mouth was open, and an idea that wasn't even fully formulated was coming out.

"Well, maybe you should get out of town this weekend, and avoid the whole scene. It's the Fourth of July, and I was planning on going to my family's cottage on the beach in Delaware. It's nothing fancy, but you're welcome to come. It'll be relaxing." Jim stopped, and immediately regretted every word. Why had he just said that? He had no plans to go to the beach that weekend. He and his family avoided the beach like the plague on holiday weekends. He didn't think anyone in his family would be there, but what if they were? A weekend with the Halperts wasn't exactly relaxing. Plus, Pam had barely talked to him in two months. As soon as she said two words to him, he offered to take her away for the weekend? Jesus. He really thought he had gotten over her.

"That actually sounds great."

Jim couldn't believe what he had just heard. "Really?"

Pam laughed at this obviously incredulous reaction. "Did you invite me just to be nice, thinking that I would say no?"

Jim had to laugh, too. "No, but I was sure you were going to shoot the idea down."

"Well, my new life is starting. I'm going to be like George Costanza, and do everything the opposite of what I would normally do. It's going to be the Summer of George!"

"You just confused two different episodes of Seinfeld, Beesley."

They both laughed again, but Jim's laugh was a bit more uneasy. Holy shit. A long weekend with Pam. He had a lot to do.

"Okay. It's a five hour drive. Did I mention that?"

She threw her hands up. "Whatever. I am a great passenger. I'll keep you awake—I never fall sleep in the car. I'll hold your coffee for you and bring my Dolly Parton CDs for your musical enjoyment. I already know you love 'Islands in the Stream.' This time, you can sing the man's part."

Jim continued, trying to suppress the panic that was beginning to creep into his voice. "And I know the term 'Beach House' usually brings up visions of Muffy and Buffy drinking cocktails in the hot tub on the deck, so don't get your hopes up. My grandfather built the cottage forty years ago, and he wasn't exactly a professional carpenter. Or architect. The floor kind of slopes. You'll roll out of bed and wake up on the floor if you aren't careful. And we don't really have an indoor shower."

"What? Are you trying to get me to stay home?" She was laughing again. Jim had forgotten how nice it was to see her smile. Why was he saying all these things? He had to admit to himself that he was trying to lower her expectations—he didn't want her to be disappointed by what he could offer her.

"Of course not! I need an official coffee holder. I'm going to leave work a little early to pack. I'll pick you up at 6:00 sharp. All you need is a bathing suit, sunglasses, and some bug spray. We don't have screens for the windows, and there are huge mosquitoes that will come in and bite you while you are sleep."

Pam playfully smacked his arm. "You can't get rid of me that easy!"

I wouldn't even try to, Jim thought to himself.

* * *

Taking a deep breath, Jim pulled into Pam's driveway. To his relief, Roy's truck was nowhere to be found. That would've been awkward. The past two hours had been a blur. He had raced home, threw some clothes in a bag, and called his friends to cancel his plans with them for the Fourth. He called the Cottage to check and see if anyone else had spontaneously decided to visit the shore, but got no answer. Good. The last thing he needed was his Mom hanging around. He ran to the grocery store to pick up some supplies, knowing that the stores would be crazy at the beach. Beer, hamburgers, bagels, fruit, anything else? Sunchips. French Onion.

* * *

Taking a deep breath, she saw Jim pull into the driveway. She had asked Roy to leave and come back tomorrow. She hadn't told him where she was going, but she guessed he had a suspicion. She threw a few items in a duffel bag, and took a last look around. She felt a surprising lack of nostalgia, looking at the life she and Roy had built together. It wasn't her life anymore, and she was happy about that. She was scared, but she knew the fear was good. Without fear, she wouldn't have any proof that she was making changes. And she needed a change.

* * *

The first three hours of the trip was a comedy of errors. While Pam was performing her expert coffee holding duties, she spilled the liquid all over her pants. Luckily, the Dunkin' Donuts they had stopped at supplied them with the worst service they had ever received, so the coffee was only lukewarm. Jim realized he had forgotten his EZ-Pass, which he figured would add 25 minutes to their trip, and then he missed the exit to the highway, despite the fact that he had driven between Scranton and Delaware dozens of times. They narrowly avoided an accident when the tourists in front of them lost one of their twenty suitcases jerry-rigged on top of their minivan, and the car radio was on the fritz. Pam did bring her Dolly Parton CDs, and Jim was forced to sing along with several songs. Forced to. He did not do so voluntarily. At all. 

Despite these minor disasters, they had a great time. It was so simple, just the two of them riding in a car together, but Jim couldn't get over how right it felt. They talked about a lot of things, but steered clear of any mention of Roy or the wedding. They played various versions of Desert Island, including who would you bring? and who would you eat first? They laughed when Pam interrupted their game of Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon with the announcement that she had forgotten her bug spray. She was just going to have to fight them mano-a-mosquitoe.

After the sun set and the road began to cut straight through farmland, Jim could see that Pam was fighting to stay awake. "Who knew Delaware was so…uninteresting?" She yawned.

"Hi. I'm in Delaware." Jim gave his best Wayne's World impression. He got a giggle out of Pam, but she was well on her way to dreamland. He let her sleep, still trying to get his head around the fact that this morning, they were barely on speaking terms, and now she was know in his car with him, traveling to the exotic locale of…Delaware.


	2. Chapter 2

It was almost midnight when they pulled in front of the small, yellow cottage, five blocks from the beach. "Beasley, hey," he whispered, "we're here, sleepy." She lifted her head from the window, and looked at him with half-closed eyes. He remembered the time he had seen that look before, during their day of diversity training. The memory brought a small smile to his face. "I thought your job was to keep me awake, Ms. Ideal Passenger."

She yawned and shrugged. "What can I say? I'm not perfect. Let's get to bed."

With that she opened the door. Jim was sure that in her state of half-sleep, she wasn't paying attention to the way her last sentence sounded, but just hearing it made his heart pound.

They unpacked the car quickly, and Jim gave her a quick tour of the place. It didn't take long. "Here's the outdoor shower. Trust me, its going to be the best shower you'll ever take. Here's the kitchen slash living room," he said, "and the blue room. You can sleep here. It's got the best bed." He turned on the light in a large room with three windows, painted sky blue. "I'll get you some clean sheets." He opened her windows, trying to get a nice ocean breeze for Pam. The room smelled a little musty.

The tour continued with the yellow room, which was actually painted lavender. Evidently Jim's cousin had a gotten bored one night and painted it purple, but its previous name had stuck. Next, Jim showed Pam the sunroom—a long, narrow room with windows all along the side. It was crowded with three bookshelves filled with paperbacks and photo albums, a set of bunk beds, and an old recliner.

"Well, that's about it. Bathroom's next to your room. So . . .um, that's about it." He looked around at the mismatched furniture and wondered what she thought of the place. The screened-in porch was filled with old rocking chairs found at garage sales over the years. The stove and the fridge were older than he was. The couch was lumpy, having survived years of various cousins and friends crashing on it. But despite its drawbacks, the cottage was like a second home to him. He had spent his summers here as a kid, playing at the beach everyday, and worked at the ice cream shop on the boardwalk during his teenage years. He had his first kiss on this porch, and the last time he had seen his grandfather, he had taught Jim how to install the new water heater.

As soon as he looked at her, though, leaning over one of the bookshelves, smiling to herself and thumbing through an old issue of Life magazine, he knew that she could care less about lumpy couches and chipped plates.

After the tour, Pam stifled another yawn, and headed to the bathroom to get ready. Jim put his bag in the yellow room, and changed into a pair of flannel pajama pants and a t-shirt. He heard a soft knock on his bedroom door. When he opened the door, he had to smile. He had never seen her in glasses before. He had always had a thing for girls with glasses. She was wearing an old Penn State t-shirt and a pair of gray shorts. "Well, that's a new look," he said, with a laugh.

"Shut it." She threw him a smile. "I just wanted to thank you again for inviting me. I really appreciate it. This is just what I needed."

"Of course." She started to turn away. "Pam." She looked back at him. He wasn't sure what he wanted to say. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, to kiss her, to invite her into the yellow room with him. But he still had no idea where they stood. "Goodnight."

She smiled, and headed off to bed. He knew it would not be easy to fall asleep that night.

* * *

The next morning, Pam was up early. Jim was right, the outdoor shower was amazing. It was attached to the side of the house, with an open top to let the sunshine in. It was freeing to feel the sun and breeze on her body. She felt amazingly refreshed. She wondered around the cottage, taking in all of the small details of the place. One whole wall was covered with pictures of Jim's family, some of them old and yellowed with age.

One of the first pictures was of six rambunctious children on the bunk beds in the sunroom—three boys on the top bunk, three girls on the bottom. The boys were probably three or four years old and all looked alike. She tried to figure out which one was Jim. She decided he was probably the one in the Superman pajamas, lying on his belly with his legs dangling off the bed, trying to fly.

Next, she saw a picture of a young boy she recognized immediately as Jim, standing with a man she guessed was his grandfather, in front of the cottage. Jim was probably seven years old, with two missing front teeth, and a thick mop of unruly hair. He was on a ladder, holding a paint brush dripping with blue paint. Jim's grandfather was standing on the ground, holding a can of house paint. They were laughing, and Jim's grandfather had a large streak of blue paint going all the way down his chest. "Even then, he was a character," she thought to herself.

"Hey." His voice behind her made her jump.

"Oh, hey. Morning." She regained her composure. "Cute picture."

Jim smiled. "Yeah, that was one of my best. I was helping him paint the house, and I lost my balance. Luckily, he was a good sport."

"Its amazing how much history is in this house. You can really tell how much love there is here."

Jim gave her a look she couldn't read, so she just changed the subject. "I made coffee. Want a bagel?" He quickly agreed to a cup of coffee, and rubbed his eyes. His hair was sticking up in eight different directions, and when he yawned and stretched his arms above his head, his shirt rode up an inch and revealed his stomach.

Pam blushed. The combination of his tousled hair, his sleepy eyes, and a fleeting glance at his stomach made her heart skip a beat. Over the past year, she had gotten used to that feeling. The first time she felt it was when she and Jim had found the discarded signs Dwight had made for the conference room he was using while picking the office's health care plan. They had just been sitting outside in the cold, laughing at Dwight's inanity. It had been nothing. Jim was reading some ridiculous sign to the camera, and she looked at him and suddenly thought about what her life would be like if they were together. It was just a brief thought, one that she suppressed immediately, but she couldn't deny that the idea of it made her heart tighten a bit.

Those moments happened more and more over the months. She burned with jealousy every time Katy was around, and thought about what it would be like to lie in Jim's bed when she went to a party at his house. She even thought about what it would be like to do the simplest things together—like grocery shopping and laundry. Every time she let her mind wonder, it seemed to settle on Jim.

She had convinced herself that it was nothing, and that she was meant to be with Roy. That theory came to a screeching halt a few months ago. Pam and Jim had been joking around, and each did an impression of Stanley at the same time. Pam got her jinx in first, and Jim was forced to spend the rest of the day silent. At first, it had been fun. She loved teasing him, and seeing him get out of tough situations was hilarious. As the day wore on, though, she began to feel anxious. There was so much she wanted to share with him, and she couldn't stand him not talking to her. When he finally broke the jinx, and said hello to her, Pam felt her entire stomach drop. It was as if her whole day was empty without him, and having him back replaced all the emptiness with joy. And then she realized that her whole life was like that—empty—until Jim walked into the office every morning. At that moment, she knew she was in trouble.

Trying to refocus herself, she started to toast a bagel. "I hope I didn't wake you up too early. I guess I was just excited to get to the beach."

"No, that's a good idea. Damn tourists crowd the beach up quickly on a holiday weekend."

"Um, aren't we 'damn tourists' as well?"

Jim took a bite of a bagel and mixed some sugar into his coffee. "Beasley—don't insult me." He said, pulling a small plastic card out of the kitchen drawer. "We have a library card. We are _not _tourists. My family was here before the hotels were built and the condos took over. We have the right to grumble about everyone else."

* * *

They packed their bags, and Jim found two old beach chairs stored in the shed. Pam hadn't seen the town the night before, so they took the long route. The cottage was two blocks from the Route 1, a large four-lane road that went all the way down the shore. On the other side was town—3 blocks long, 3 blocks wide, full of ice cream parlors, mini golf, and bathing suit shops. They stopped at Jim's favorite store, an old Five and Dime, where Jim bought some sunblock and an issue of Us Weekly. "What, did you think I'm going to be reading 'War and Peace'?"

Pam laughed, and bought an InTouch. "We can do a page-by-page comparison, and determine, once and for all, which is the best celebrity rag."

Even though it was still early, they had to weave their way through hundreds of towels, blankets, and beach umbrellas on the beach. Finding a suitable spot, Pam laid out her towel and set up both of their chairs. Jim was laying his towel next to Pam's when he looked up and realized she was taking her shirt off.

"Relax buddy, relax." He told himself, willing himself to not look in her direction. Eventually, he couldn't pretend to fiddle with his towel anymore, so he sat down and glanced over to her. She was wearing a simple navy blue bathing suit, one-piece, but with a neckline cut much lower than Jim would've expected. She was just sitting on her towel, getting their magazines out of her bag, but he had never seen her look so beautiful.

She handed him the UsWeekly with a smile that made his heart ache. "First one to spot a picture of an Olsen twin drinking a coffee from Starbucks gets a free ice cream cone, courtesy of the loser," she challenged.

"Deal."

* * *

Pam turned over onto her stomach. She was getting hot. Her hair was piled in a bun on the top of her head, but her neck was still sweating. She glanced over at Jim, lying on his back, just a foot away from her. "This is what it feels like to lie next to him." She thought. Her immediate reaction was to push the thought aside, but she had to remind herself to just let it be. "It's okay. You're not with Roy anymore. It's not cheating. Let it go." With that thought, she allowed herself to have an extra glace at Jim. He was wearing a pair of green swimming trunks. He had nice legs—muscular. She had a thing for calves. Roy's calves had looked like tree trunks. She blushed when she realized that her eyes had moved up, and were now focused on his stomach, and the small line of hair leading from his bellybutton down to his shorts to…who knows? She smiled a little, and turned her head away from him, afraid that he would see.

A few minutes later, she decided that sun was too much. It was time to get in the water. "Hey, Halpert, are you asleep?" She whispered.

"Yes."

"Are you hot?"

"The ladies seem to think so."

She had to laugh. "This lady agrees. That's why we should jump in the water and cool off."

Jim lifted his sunglasses and gave her a curious look. "I never saw you as a jumper-inner. I thought of you as more of a dip-a-toe-in-and-squeal-kinda-girl."

"I've got some surprises up my sleeve. If you don't just go for it, you'll never get all the way in." Even while she was saying this, Pam knew she had always eased her way into cold water, and usually chickened out before it got to her waist. But it was time to make some changes in her attitude.

"Okay, you're on," Jim answered, accepting her challenge.

They walked to the edge of the water. "Ready?" Pam asked, perhaps to herself more than to Jim. Before Jim could answer, she ran in, splashing several small children on her way. When she got waist deep, she dove right into a large wave that was about to crash over her head. Jim looked impressed.

She surfaced on the other side of the crest. "Come on Halpert. Afraid of a little water?"

Not one to get bested by his favorite receptionist, he ran into the wave. Unlike Pam, his timing was off, and he managed to get hit directly in the face by the breaking water. He came up sputtering and spitting water, greeted by Pam's laughing face.

"So, Barbara, I guess this means you're more of a squeal-and-run-away-kind-of-girl?" She said, doing her best Dr. Cox impression.

"You're dead Beasley." He grabbed her shoulders and gave her an affectionate dunk. She was slippery underneath him, and he lost his grip. He wasn't sure where his hand grazed her, but he was pretty sure it was somewhere inappropriate. Pam came up laughing, and Jim gave her a sheepish grin.


	3. Chapter 3

They spent the next three hours rotating from swimming to napping on the beach to enjoying the culinary delights of the various eateries along the boardwalk. They bought a sack full of salt-water taffy from the Candy Kitchen, and brought it back to their towels. Jim was doing an excellent impression of Pam trying to talk while the candy was still stuck to the roof of her mouth.

"Mmwhah, wahah manha…"

Because she still couldn't get any words out, she gave him a playful slap on the arm.

"Ouch!" He said, a little surprised at the pain.

They both looked at their red skin, and realized that they had probably had too much sun. It was time to pack up.

* * *

The walk home was silent. Jim had to compare it to the silence that had existed between the two of them the last few months at work. It was amazing what a difference a few days can make. Before, Pam pretty much avoided talking to Jim at any cost. He tried to find out what was wrong, but every time he did, she would find some work to do. When he continued to pester her, she started actively shooting him down. He eventually got the hint that she didn't want anything to do with him, and resigned himself to doing nothing at work but work. It was a pretty pathetic existence.

Jim had no idea what brought about the change in Pam in the last few days, but at this moment, he didn't care. She was with him, walking down a shady road, beach chairs and salt-water taffy in hand, and life was pretty good.

"So what's the plan for the rest of the day?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Hmm…I don't know. What are you in the mood for? Once we get all cleaned up, I can get the grill started up. Then maybe a game of bocce? I happen to be a mean bocce player . . . oh shit."

Pam, startled, looked up at Jim, and then followed his eyes to the cottage, and the minivan sitting in the driveway.

"Shit. No one else was supposed to . . . it's my brother, Nick."

"Is that a bad thing?" Pam asked, concerned.

"No, he's cool, it's just…he's got three kids…" Jim's heart sank. He wanted to spend every minute of the weekend alone with Pam. He wanted to sit on the porch with her and kiss her in the moonlight. Family bonding didn't fit into the picture.

They walked up to the porch door, and were immediately knocked over by a shaggy mutt. "Hey Stewie." Jim said, with disappointment in his voice.

Pam knelt down to pet the dog. "What a cutie!" Jim knew that Pam loved dogs, but she couldn't get one because Roy was allergic.

"Hello! Hey Nick, you around?"

A taller version of Jim appeared from the yellow room. "James! I saw your car in the driveway. Didn't think you'd be up for the weekend here, not with all the crowds…" Nick stopped when he saw Pam playing on the porch with Stewie. "Oh, uh, are we interrupting something? It was just a spur of the moment thing to come down here. We were visiting Annie's mom, and the cottage is about half-way, so we thought we'd spend the weekend here. But, if you've got other plans…" he said, and gave a not-so-subtle nod of his head towards Pam.

"No, no, of course not." Jim said, desperate to get off the topic. "Pam, this is my brother Nick. Nick, Pam."

"Oh, Pam, we've heard so much about you!" Nick said eagerly, embarrassing Jim further. At that moment, Annie, Jim's sister-in-law, came into the living room, with one small boy in her arms, and another following closely behind.

"Jim! What an unexpected surprise!"

Jim reached over and gave Annie a peck on the cheek, and grabbed Henry out of her arms. Throwing him over his shoulder, he introduced Pam and Annie. Henry, a four-year-old with devilish look in his eyes, squealed with delight and insisted that Jim spin him around for a helicopter ride, while Annie coaxed their older son George from behind her legs. George was six, and very shy. Pam got a quick wave and a "hi" before George ran out onto the lawn with Stewie.

"The kids can take the bunk beds in the sunroom, and Annie and I can take the yellow room with Holly in the porta-crib, and . . ." Nick wasn't sure where to go with the issue of where Pam and Jim would sleep. He had heard plenty about Pam from his younger brother, and didn't want to assume anything.

Jim spoke right up. "I'll take the couch, and Pam can have the blue room."

"Great, everything's settled. Now, onto dinner!"

* * *

While Nick and Annie unpacked the food they had brought and started up the grill, Jim pulled Pam over to a private corner on the porch.

"I'm really sorry about all of this. I really wanted you to have a fun, relaxing time. You didn't sign up for a 'Meet the Halperts' weekend."

"Jim, don't even think about it! Your family so nice, and I'm having an amazing time. Really." She gave him a smile that showed that she meant it. "Now let's hit the showers. I need to get all of the sand out of my hair!"

As she walked away, he smiled to himself. Twice in two days, she had delivered a line that sent shivers up his spine.

* * *

Jim was already showered and in a pair of clean shorts and t-shirt, attempting to gauge whether the hamburgers were done, when Pam walked out. He glanced up, and almost dropped his barbeque tongs. She had changed into a simple blue and white sundress, and wasn't wearing any shoes. She had thrown her hair, still wet from the shower, into a messy bun, but a few strands had escaped, and curled around her face. The sun had brought out freckles on her shoulders, and her nose was a light shade of pink. She really was breathtaking.

After a moment, he realized he was staring, and went back to focusing on the food. He had let a hot dog burn during his reverie.

"I'll have the burned one. I like my dogs well done." She said, sidling up next to Jim. Her closeness was intoxicating. Even over the flames and food, he could smell her shampoo.

He gave her a weak smile, but couldn't come up with anything witty. Not even a "that's what she said." He was relieved when Nick came out with a beer for each of them, and Pam went to sit next to Annie and the kids. Annie was holding six-month old Holly, and George was slowly warming up to Pam.

* * *

Over dinner, the topic of the grandstand concert came up. Jim explained that on weekend nights, there was a band playing on a little stage on the boardwalk. It was usually a folk band made up of retired people from the area, or jazz band, or occasionally a cheesy cover band, but it was usually good music, and a big crowd always showed up.

"That sounds like a lot of fun, we should all go!" Pam exclaimed, and Jim gave an inward groan. Who had even brought up the subject? His vision of walking the beach with Pam underneath the moonlight was quickly turning into a group affair.

"Oh, no, it's really not that fun."

"Come on, Uncle Jim! Lets go!"

"Yay! Can we get ice cream, too, Uncle Jim?"

Realizing he was facing a losing battle, he finally conceded.

* * *

Pam grabbed her blue cardigan and threw on some flip-flops. Henry was hopping up and down while trying to pull Pam out the door. Unlike George, he needed no time to warm up to her. "Lets go! Come on! Ice cream!"

Pam had to laugh. "What about everyone else? Your mom and dad are still getting Holly ready."

"Lets go!" He squealed, moving onto his Uncle Jim.

"Okay, okay. Nick—we'll start up with Henry and George. We'll meet you at the grandstand. We'll be the ones with chocolate all over our faces." George and Henry grinned at the thought of chocolate, and the foursome started off towards the beach.

"Stay on the sidewalk, guys!" Jim yelled, as the two boys skipped ahead. Pam looked at him, and just as she had the day that everyone had brought their children into work, realized what a great dad he was going to make. The two of them strolled leisurely along, keeping an eye on the boys.

"Hey, we're getting close to Route 1. Hold up." Jim said, as the boys ran back to them. The four of them walked up to the intersection, and Pam pressed the pedestrian crossing button.

"Safety first!" George said, obviously repeating his parents' instructions. "Everybody hold hands!" George grabbed Pam's hand, and Henry held Jim's hand. A moment passed, and then without looking up at him, Pam took Jim's hand.

Pam trained her eyes ahead. The light still hadn't changed. The four of them stood on the sidewalk, holding hands, waiting for the sign on the other side to tell them to start walking. Had she been too bold? She knew she was trying to be a bit more daring in her life, but if he had wanted to hold her hand, wouldn't he have just done it first? She could just say they were teaching the kids about pedestrian safety. That was a good story, right? She felt her hand start to sweat. What had she gotten herself into? And when was the god damn light going to turn?

Finally, the traffic stopped, and the foursome scooted across the highway. On the other side, Henry and George broke free, and ran to look in the window of the ice cream shop. The anxiety that had been building up in her chest lifted, and she dropped Jim's hand.

Her hand was free for only a split second, though, before Jim took it back. Pam's heart felt like it jumped into her throat. Whatever was happening between them, it was definitely no longer about safety.

Neither of them acknowledged what had just occurred. Instead, they silently joined the boys in staring at the ice cream parlor window. Pam pretended she was concentrating on the long list of flavors, but she was actually looking at her reflection in the window. There she was, holding hands with Jim. She couldn't help but smile. As she looked at their reflection further, she noticed the same smile forming on Jim's face. They didn't have the courage to actually look at one another, but her eyes met his in their reflection, and he gave her hand a squeeze.


	4. Chapter 4

Annie and Nick had found a bench near the grandstand, and Nick and Jim turned it around so that Annie and the kids could sit on it and enjoy the band. The brothers jumped up on the railing of the boardwalk directly behind the bench, resting their feet on the bench in front of them. Pam had gone to the bathroom with George to wash the mint chocolate chip ice cream off of his hands. The band was made up of a group of three middle aged men playing bad versions of various songs that had been covered millions of times before. A balding man was jamming out to "Piano Man" when they walked up.

Nick was making a snide comment about the drummer when Jim felt the soft cotton of Pam's cardigan against his leg. She had sidled up next to him so unexpectedly; he almost lost his balance and fell off the railing. Instead, he offered her a hand, and helped her onto the railing next to him.

Pam stretched out her legs in an attempt to rest her feet on Annie's bench just as Jim and Nick had, but they had an extra foot on her, and she couldn't quite reach. Jim laughed at her attempts to stretch.

"Face it, Pam, it's a lost cause."

Refusing to accept defeat, she took her flip flops off, stretched out her legs, and rested her feet on Jim's extended legs.

"There is no such thing as a lost cause." She said, smiling. Jim looked at her quizzically, sensing a devilish look in her eyes.

Jim forced a little laugh, and a shook his head, but it was hard to concentrate with her bare legs resting on his. She had moved right up next to him during her maneuver, and he had to wonder what she was thinking. She had been the one to first hold his hand, right? Granted, she had dropped it as soon as they got across the street, but she had seemed happy when he made his move. And here she was, sitting closer to him than necessary, with her legs intertwined with his. He wasn't crazy, was he? He glanced at her profile, and decided it was time to make his move.

"I don't think I can handle one more verse of the theme song to 'The Karate Kid,'" he said in a low voice, looking over at her.

"Actually, it's from 'The Karate Kid Two.' Get your Ralph Macchio movies straight, please."

"I stand corrected. Don't put me in a body bag, Johnny." He got a laugh out of her, and took a deep breath. "Want to go on a walk?"

She paused for a second and looked into his eyes. The moment seemed to take forever. "Sure, um, sounds good."

"Okay, cool." He said, mentally kicking himself for sounding so eager.

They slid off the railing, but while Pam was grabbing her shoes, Jim felt a tug on his sleeve. "Can I come, too?"

Jim looked down at Henry and groaned inwardly. Come on! He looked up at Nick for some help, but his brother was helping Annie with Holly. "Sure, okay."

* * *

The music from the grandstand was quickly drowned out by the sounds of the waves crashing on the shore. Henry, with his unfailing energy, had run ahead of them, and was inspecting some shells he had found on the beach.

As they walked, Pam pointed out constellations to Jim. He was surprised to find that she knew the stories behind each one. Her favorite was Cassiopeia. She told him about how her father had taken her and her sister out onto the roof of their house during summer nights and taught them about each constellation. Jim had never heard Pam mention her father before. All he knew was that he wasn't around anymore, and that Pam got uncomfortable every time the topic came up. There was still so much about her that was a mystery. He wanted to know everything.

She carried her shoes, and Jim kept his hands in his pockets. His nervousness was growing. They walked in silence for a few minutes, until Pam suddenly looked at him.

"Do you want to sit down?"

His heart pounded, but he responded with a relaxed "sure."

They sat down, staring out at the ocean. She was close to him, and the light breeze from the ocean played with her hair. Pam unconsciously grabbed a fistful of sand, and slowly drained it onto her feet, covering them with sand. When she was done, she started to cover his feet, too. The moon provided enough light for them to see Henry playing near the surf.

"His Mom is going to flip. He's got sand in his hair."

She gave a little laugh, but said nothing.

Jim couldn't handle the silence, so he started to talk. About what, he had no idea. It was just a diversionary tactic. She joined in, and soon they were engaged in that silly kind of small talk between two people, neither of whom is actually thinking about the conversation. It was filled with "umms…" and little laughs, and very little of substance. Jim wasn't even listening while Pam was talking. He was just staring at her lips and thinking "do it do it do it," but his body seemed paralyzed.

Finally something inside him broke, and he reached his hand up. He had no idea what to do with it once it was in motion, and Pam looked surprised. He decided to simply reach up and tuck a piece of hair behind her ear that had fallen loose. In the process, he grazed her cheek with the palm of his hand. Her skin was soft and warm to the touch.

"Listen, Pam…"

Pam's eyes had been intently focused on his, but he saw her suddenly glace to his side. Looking over, he saw Henry standing two feet away from him. No way. This was not happening.

"Uncle Jim? I have to go bathroom."

"Just go to the edge of the water and aim out into the ocean."

Henry looked shocked at the idea. Pam smiled.

"No, I have to go number TWO."

Jim could not believe Henry's timing. He slowly shook his head, but knew there wasn't much he could do, and started to get up.

"Sorry," he said, looking down at Pam. "Do you want to come with us, or…?"

"No, that's okay. I'll wait right here for you."

Jim started to walk away with Henry. "You better be quick about this, Chief," he said, "and don't think I won't remember this in ten years when you're on your first date. Trust me, I will."


	5. Chapter 5

Pam hugged her knees and wrapped her cardigan closer to her body. She wanted to scream. Scream with frustration, scream with joy, scream with anticipation. They had been so close! When she left Roy, she had no real clue how Jim felt about her. But just now, when she had looked into his eyes, she knew there was something there. It was what she had thought about for a year—first casually imagining it, then fighting it, and now working for it.

Her joy was tempered when the cell phone in her purse began to vibrate. She sighed and looked at the caller ID. Roy. He had called nine times since she left Scranton, and she knew he would keep on calling. Knowing that Jim would be gone for a few more minutes, she decided this was the best time to bite the bullet and pick up the phone.

"Hey."

"Hmm. Wasn't expecting you to answer the phone."

"Then why did you call?"

"'Dunno. Just wanted to hear your voice."

Pam sighed. This was so goddamn hard.

"I'm sorry Roy, but I just can't talk. Why don't we meet for coffee next week?"

"Coffee? Coffee? I gave you ten years and you can give me fucking coffee?"

Pam's eyes stung with tears at the hurt in his voice. What could she say that hadn't been said before? They had been going through this for two months. As soon as Pam had been honest with herself about her feelings for Jim, she told Roy that they had to postpone the wedding. Roy exploded. He couldn't understand why she had begged him for so long to set a date, and then a month before their wedding, she "wasn't ready." Pam wasn't completely honest with him. She simply told him that she was having doubts.

After Roy calmed down, he realized the severity of the situation. He loved her. He would do anything for her. And Pam loved Roy, too. She had scared herself, and she wanted nothing more than to be happy with Roy. So they set aside some time for their relationship. Pam told Roy that she needed him to be more attentive and supportive. She wanted to grow, but she needed his encouragement. Roy agreed, and asked Pam to try to take more of an interest in his friends, and at least _try _to have fun when they all got together.

They did this for two months. Pam knew that, if she had any chance of repairing things with Roy, she couldn't be comparing him to Jim. So she shut Jim out of her life, completely. She tried simply ignoring him, but it was so hard. When he first found out about the wedding, he tried to comfort her. But when she refused to talk about it, he seemed to understand that she needed her space. That made it even harder. How did he know her so well? When did that happen?

His small smiles and funny emails just made her _angry_ at him. What right did he have screwing up her life? He was going through his life, a carefree, happy-go-lucky kind of guy, going on dates, having fun, while her heart was being torn in two.

Her anger helped, though. It helped her push him out of her life so that she could try to make things work with Roy. When he came over to her desk to report that he had heard Dwight registering for a class at the University of Scranton entitled, "Fun with Frodo: Screenwriting for Sci-Fi Fans," he looked at her with those laughing eyes, and leaned over her desk so close that she could smell his soap. At that moment, she hated him.

She looked right into his eyes, and clinging to that anger like a life vest, responded, "At least he has some goals and dreams. Maybe he won't end up a paper salesman his whole life."

With that, she got up and went to the restroom, hoping he wouldn't notice her shaking. She knew him well, too, and she knew how to hurt him.

She spent half of her days in the bathroom, alternating between crying and working up enough anger to be able to face him again. He had gotten the hint, and stopped his hourly visits. He began having lunch with Ryan, and no longer looked at her with an incredulous look every time Michael said something inane. Her plan to eliminate him from her day-to-day life had worked, but unfortunately, she couldn't wipe him from her heart. If anything, it made her more miserable, because she had pushed her best friend out of her life.

It wasn't any big event that caused the end of Pam and Roy. Maybe it would've been easier if there was. She just realized that she and Roy were both working so hard for something that, if they achieved, would just make them miserable. Roy didn't want Pam to change. He wanted to raise a family near his friends and family, and was content with his choices in life. Pam was suffocating in Scranton. She couldn't stomach the thought of living the life Roy had planned for them.

She told him it was over on Tuesday. There was a lot of yelling and accusations. Roy couldn't understand what more she wanted from him. He had done everything she had asked. Pam couldn't explain that it wasn't enough, it would never be enough. When Roy brought up Jim's name, Pam felt like she had been slapped. She told him she had never cheated on him, but she said nothing when he asked her if she loved Jim. The silence hung in the air for what seemed like hours, until Roy grabbed his keys from the table, and drove off. She hadn't seen him since.

The thought of the scene brought fresh tears to her eyes. "I'm sorry." It was all she could say.

"Are you staying with him?"

"Yes, I'm staying with him." She tried to sound calm. She wouldn't lie.

"I can't believe you think that prick's going to make you happy. Darryl told me he cheated on Katy with that Brenda-chick."

"He would never cheat on anyone." Her voice shook a little. How dare he accuse Jim of something like that?

"Whatever. You know, I'm going out with Allison Thorpe tomorrow night."

"I don't care if you go out with her." It was true. The thought of him dating someone else was more bizarre than upsetting.

"Don't you love me anymore?"

How do you answer that question when the love you feel for someone just exists as an imprint of what was once there? "Yes. I…I'll always love you, but…" A wave crashed in front of her, and the sea foam grazed her feet. She got up and started walking towards her left to avoid the surf. "I'm not in love with you. I can't be with you. You know that. We've been through this. Nothing will change. I'm sorry."

With that, she hung up her phone; sorry she had ever picked it up. She tried to push the conversation out of her brain, and remember the joy she had felt just a few minutes earlier, when Jim had put his hand on her cheek. She couldn't let herself feel guilty about the pain Roy was in. If they didn't go through this now, they would be going through it in ten years, when it would be even more excruciating. With that, she picked her head up, rubbed her eyes dry, and sat down to wait for Jim.

* * *

Jim didn't know if he had ever truly felt heartbreak until this moment. When he first found out Pam was engaged, he had been disappointed, but it hasn't that big of a deal. He liked her, but wasn't in love with her. Yet. The closest he had come was when Roy announced their wedding date. But by that point, he had so little hope left in him, that, when the shock wore off, he found that very little had changed. 

But this? This was something new. He was actually in physical pain. The difference was that this time, he had had let himself have hope. He had come so close to his dream that he could practically taste her…and now? What had just happened?

His knees were weak, and he knelt down on the sand, his head in his hands, her words repeating in his brain. I'm staying with him. He would never cheat on anyone. _He _would never cheat on anyone? I don't care if you go out with her? Who is "her"?

It all made sense now—the break-up that she didn't want to talk about, the sudden interest in him after ignoring him for two months. Roy had cheated on her, and she was trying to get back at him. She was trying to make Roy jealous. And Jim was just the stupid, naïve, love-sick idiot who had jumped at the first chance to be with her.

And the fucking kicker—"I'll always love you." He had been so delusional that he actually thought she might say those words to him, maybe even tonight. But no. She said them to Roy. He couldn't hear anything she said after that. He didn't need to. How could he have been so wrong? All of her glances, her laughter, her flirting—it had all been a lie. A fucking lie.

He looked at her, thirty feet in front of him. She was gazing out into the ocean, probably thinking about Roy. He didn't know what to do. Five minutes ago, he had dropped off his nephew with Nick, winking and telling his brother not to wait up for them. Now he was sitting in the sand, wondering how she could ever do this to him.


	6. Chapter 6

Pam heard him coming up behind her, and looked up towards him with a huge smile on her face. But when she saw his expression, she began to get concerned.

"Hey…hey, what's wrong?"

"I don't know Pam." He said, his voice quiet, but filled with hurt.

"What do you mean?" She stood up to look at him. She was scared now. Where was the grinning guy that had left her fifteen minutes ago?

He looked down at the ground, his arms hugged against his chest, and stood silently for a minute. "I heard what you said."

Pam's mind raced. What did he mean? He must have heard her conversation with Roy. What had she said to him? She couldn't even remember.

"Jim—whatever you think I said, just tell me and I'll explain." She was trying to remain calm, but a panic was rising in her voice. "Don't blow this, don't blow this," she repeated to herself.

She put her hand on his arm, but he still would not look in her eyes.

"Just tell me what's going on here, Pam. I'm not here to help you get back at Roy. I can't do that. "

Pam began to protest, but he cut her off. "I know this is partly my fault. I shouldn't have invited you here. It was too soon. And I know I've probably misinterpreted a few things. I know that. I mean come on—I actually expected you to jump into my arms after you haven't said three words to me in two months? God, I'm an idiot." He swallowed hard and looked out into the ocean. "What do you want from me?"

Pam was stunned. She was still wracking her brain, wondering what she had said to Roy. Why had she even picked up the phone? Jim's words had cemented her full-blown panic.

"Jim, please, listen to me. I have no idea what you just heard. I can tell you that it didn't mean whatever you thought it meant. There is nothing left between Roy and I, and I would _never_ use you like that." Could he really think that she would have so little regard for his feelings? "I told him that I was here with you, but not because I was trying to make him jealous. I was trying to be honest. And I didn't accept your invitation to make him jealous. You know me better than that."

With that, he turned towards her again, his voice still hard. "You're right. I never would've thought you would do something like that. But, you know, this has been a rough couple of months for me, too. My best friend Pam disappeared sometime around May, and I haven't seen much of her until this weekend. What am I supposed to think?"

Now it was her time to stare at the sand and avoid his eyes. She couldn't blame him for being confused. She had pulled a 180 on him a while back, and completely shut him out. Now, in one weekend, she thought she could just win him back, and he wouldn't be suspicious of her motivations? She knew it was time to be honest with him.

"Jim, I'm sorry for the way I've been acting. I know I've been…erratic. It's just..." Fuck, this was hard. "Jim, do you know why I have been so awful to you?"

He sighed. "Lately, I have no idea why you do anything."

Tears started to form for the second time that night. She pressed her palms against her eyes, hoping the pressure would stop the inevitable. "I…I needed to get away from you. I knew I should try to work things out with Roy, and that wasn't possible with you around." She felt his eyes on her, but she couldn't look at him. Not yet. Not until she got everything out.

"I was trying to get over you." There, she said it. There was no immediate reaction from Jim. Silence. She began to fidget, and finally, with a deep breath, she looked up into his eyes. "It didn't work."

* * *

Jim blinked hard, twice, the shock of her words still reverberating through him. Of all of the explanations of their rift that he had gone through in his mind, this was not one of them. He suddenly felt very foolish for being so wrong about a woman he thought he knew so well. 

Pam was still looking at him with those green eyes, trying to read his expression. He put his hands in his pockets, looked down, and let out a small laugh. "I'm a dick."

He could tell this wasn't what she was expecting to hear. "What?"

"I'm sorry I jumped to a million conclusions. I can't believe I accused you of something like that. Its just--my ego hit an all-time low when we were fighting,and I guess it was hard for me to believe that things turned around so quickly, and that you actually _wanted_ to be with me. So I assumed the worse."

He let out another small laugh. It was too ironic. He had thought she hated him, and all that time, she had had feelings for him? Another small laugh came. He had no idea what was happening, but suddenly, he was laughing in earnest. He glanced at her, and she began to giggle. It was contagious. Then she was truly laughing. She let out a snort, and it got them going even harder. Nothing about the situation was funny, but it was a cathartic kind of laughter. The rollercoaster of emotions they had both just been through was too much—they needed a release.

Soon, they were both doubled over, holding onto one another for support. Pam was holding Jim's hand, and finally the stitch in her side from the laughter got the best of her, and she stumbled down on the ground, bringing Jim with her.

They both flopped their backs down on the sand, and small fits of laughter kept on escaping from their mouths. As they eased into silence, they looked at the stars, both wondering how to start their conversation back up.

"Forget about Henry. Now I'm the one with sand in my hair." Jim said, laughter still present in his voice.

Pam smiled, thinking about the little boy who had interrupted them earlier. If only neither of them had chickened out, the whole ugly scene could've been avoided. Whatever happened to the "new" Pam? Wasn't she supposed to throw caution to the wind and take some risks? She looked over at the man lying next to her, his breath still heavy from their marathon of laughter.

She rolled over onto her side, moving right up next to him, so that their bodies touched at every point from her shoulders to her toes. He looked at her with surprise, but a confident smile formed on his lips.

Without a word, she leaned down, and kissed him. It was a short, cautious kiss—all that she had the guts for, really. His lips were soft and warm. He tasted like mint chocolate chip ice cream, and everything about him felt so right. She was starting to lean back, surprised at her own assertiveness, when he reached up and placed a strong arm on her waist and drew her back in. If the first kiss was hesitant, the second kiss was filled with emotions that had been repressed for so long that when they finally escaped, there was no holding anything back.

They stayed out there until the sun rose and the surfers took over their beach. They fell asleep using their sweaters as pillows, and each other as blankets.

* * *

Nick decided it was time to head back to Scranton. He wanted to give Jim some privacy, and traffic was going to be murder tomorrow anyways. He hated traffic more than anything, so he woke his family up at six in the morning to get an early start. He glanced at the empty couch, and then at Pam's closed door. "Nice one, Jimbo." He thought to himself, gathering the kid's toys. George was moping around, still half-asleep, but Henry was his typical high-energy self, even at six in the morning. He was running around, "helping" his mother straighten out the kitchen, but in actuality he was just making a racket. 

"Why don't you go play in the yard for a while until its time to leave, okay?" Annie's exhaustion was apparent in her voice.

"Okie Dokie." With that, Henry was out the door, letting it slam behind him. He was running towards the shed to get his soccer ball, when he noticed the wet ground. He looked over and noticed that the outdoor shower was running.

"That's funny," he thought to himself, "I thought everyone was sleeping." He walked over and heard two voices, giggling. Then he looked down, and saw four sandy feet in the shower. "How silly," he thought, "there's not enough room in there for two people!"

He ran over and knocked loudly on the door. "Uncle Jim? Hey Uncle Jim, what're you doing? Why are you in there with Pam? What's going on? Aren't you crowded?"

There was an explosion of laughter from within the shower. "Hey, why don't you go ask your dad to explain it to you, okay Chief? I'm kind of busy." With that, Jim and Pam started laughing again, and Henry rolled his eyes. Silly grown-ups. He just didn't get them sometimes.

The End.


End file.
